The Plague is Blank
by Shadow-Cipher
Summary: Just a little something I wrote when I was bored. Believe it or not, I am quite a fan of SCP Containment Breach and SCP-049 - out of every SCP, in game or not - has always been my favourite. I've found it very fascinating. I was going to make a full story, but I dunno. For now, at least have this. So yes, this story focused on SCP-049. It just wasn't on the character list. :(
1. Speak To Me

This entire foundation, the work it did, it unnerved me. The specialists working here could drill it into my skull a million times that this work, everything the foundation is doing, was for the best, but I would likely never be convinced. I can hardly remember how I ended up in this place, but it wasn't a standard telling. All I know is that I am trapped here and that any requests to leave have been met with hostility and retaliation. I very little understand my purpose for being here - I haven't even interacted with any of the SCPs, not that I wish to - only that I am not leaving. Far as I can see, I am just around to organize the thoughts and files of others. Why would that be needed? Would they not organize themselves?

Time is something I hardly have a concept of. Aside from the fact that I haven't a clue what the date was when I arrived here, the current date is something I am not informed of, and I cannot track day and night myself for I never get to see the light. Sometimes I wonder if I even remember what exactly the sun looks like. It is sort of yellow? A little round? Does it glow brightly? I hope I have my facts correct.

As I cannot process time, I can thus not tell anyone how long I have been following the same static path, the same actions. I spend elongated periods of time - it might be many hours, or nowhere near; still I cannot get answers - following the same actions, the same scenarios. I have been constantly moved into the same room, forced to follow the same tasks, and on some occasions, listen to discussions over that creature, whatever it is.

My eyes glowed and I flashed a glance upwards as I hear noise. When I am not on site, supposedly achieving nothing, I am in a small, almost featureless room. There is naught to interact with. It is simply a plain white room with a bed, and the bed is equally as plain as the rest. Its monotonous, dull, and I can feel it slowly sapping all the enthusiasm from my body. It is almost as if one of those SCPs is sitting in the room with me, always out of sight, draining my livelihood to power itself. I would ask if there was such an SCP, but I would likely be terminated for asking such questions. I am highly limited.

The door slid open, loudly, and my eyes focused on the figure of a heavily armoured, and armed, man before he could even deduce where I was sitting exactly. I rose quickly from the corner I had placed myself in. I had been counting - what I was counting I wasn't sure, but I had made it into the ten thousands - before he had arrived. I knew to react quickly, but not to seem too hasty. Too slow would get a hostile threat, too fast would get a weapon pointed at you. Neither ended well and I had heard gunshots echo through the halls numerous times before. They were shooting people. I knew it. I lurched every time I heard it and pictured it being me at the end of the barrel.

The armed man was highly alert, his senses acute as his head turned to me. "You are needed in SCP-049's chamber again. Obey and do not make a mockery of yourself - I have no orders against terminating you." the man growled at me, strong and adamant.

There it was again, the same SCP. It was as if the others, however many there were, didn't exist. Every time I was greeted by one of these hostile bastards, it was the same creature. That same creepy doctor, whatever it was supposed to be. I didn't like it, not that any of the creatures I had met were nice. Naturally, I hadn't interacted with the creature, but I was worried I would have to one day. One of these days, they were going to attempt to thrust me into a chamber with one of these SCP things, and I feared it would be 049.

I said nothing. The last time I even tried to politely agree with one of these individuals - I wonder if they're even the same person, or if its always someone different - I had a weapon pointed at me and a sharp threat involving a violent wound to the side of the head. I simply moved towards him and allowed myself to be guided.

It was terrifying, weaving through these maze-like halls while hovering less then a foot behind you was a heavily armed individual with a stick up his ass. I would never tell him about that, or even say it alone for fear I was being observed while alone in my room, but I believed it nevertheless. When I was alone, I kept quiet. When I was in the company of others, I also kept quiet. I did not speak unless absolutely required when I was in the company of other people, and when alone I would say nothing aside from counting or random colours for fear I would be misinterpreted as conspiring.

There was a moment where we paused in front of a large metallic door and the armed man slammed his hand into a button. After several moments of waiting, the door opened, and he ordered, "Into the elevator, now!"

I moved quickly within the confined space, trying to keep my breathing steady as he followed me and activated the elevator once more. If I remembered rightly, this was not the path I had taken last time - or maybe it was. Maybe I was being misled by these people by taking different paths to the same containment area, or maybe I was misleading myself by convincing myself the same path over and over was actually a different path. I couldn't think straight, couldn't concentrate, didn't care either. How deep was I going? I knew by heart that this particular SPC was contained far deeper underground then some of the others, but never knew if it was the only one. Was there a reason for it being kept this far under? I would never ask.

The door opened with a chime and a short grind. I hoped this place was functioning properly, that nothing was broken in even the slightest. I didn't fully understand most of what was contained here, but if they were anything like SCP-049 - highly lethal, that is - I feared what would happen if they broke out. Hopefully everything worked correctly. Hopefully everything was constantly repaired. I recalled once seeing SCP-049 reach out for a window and place its hand on there. It stared, strongly, and wouldn't move. All I could think about that day, as I tried to avoid looking at the thing, was what I heard the other men around saying; 'It's touch is lethal. If it touches you, you die.' and I hoped it would never touch me. There was no middle-ground, no questions asked. One touch and you were dead. I couldn't even see its eyes - no one could, I had heard rumours its mask was actually part of its body - as it stared. All I saw were two black slits gazing out from behind the glass.

I felt a shudder as I turned a corner and saw its picture, a human-like being in black wearing a white mask with a long pointed nose. My heart skipped a beat looking at the black slits that hid eyes and remembering it staring out from the glass. I kept far away from the glass every time it moved towards it. I didn't want it to notice me. Maybe it hadn't yet, and maybe it already had.

I wasn't looking the correct way, at the door. I had frozen with my gaze on its picture as the armed man cleared the door. I nearly yelped as the door ground open, but reduced myself to a jump. Nonetheless, the armed man did react, lifting his weapon with a swift acuteness and aiming it at me. When I was noted I meant no harm, I was not shot, but the gun was still pointed my way.

"You'd best watch yourself. You aren't here to play games." the man snarled, and I felt weakened. He lowered the weapon a little, pointing towards the chamber. "Get in there and do as you're told, or I'll be back for you." He grinned at me. "And not in a way you'd like."

With a gulp, I entered the room. Numerous people moved around within, mostly scientists with no real combat abilities. The door slammed shut behind me and I knew I was trapped. I instantly thought about what would happen if SCP-049 escaped. It would have a clear path to me and I would have no escape route.

"There you are!" a voice called to me, harsh, but nowhere near the intensity the armed man had thrown my way. I turned around, meeting with a person I could not attach a name to. Whether by accident or purpose, these people had made their names no clearer to me then what exactly these creatures even were. "You are late."

"Its hardly her fault, sir." a female voice called in from behind, a far more kindly individual then the man who had initially spoken to me.

The man huffed. " I don't see why not." When the woman threw him an unconvinced glance, a subtle lift of the eyebrow, he cleared his throat. "Perhaps... Fine, I'll speak with the guards about bringing her in earlier. I need her here as soon as possible. There is a lot to get done, far too complex for her mind to understand, but I need her scampering." He glanced back for a moment. "Get her started. It looks like someone is messing up my desk again." He scowled before turning away.

The woman now looked at me with a small smile, attempting to comfort me even a little. "Don't mind him. He's just disgruntled because SCP-049 has ceased all communications again." She turned to look at it, and on instinct, I followed, although I quickly looked away from it.

Despite how quickly I attempted to look away, I still spotted it, and it was still discomforting to look at. It had isolated itself in a corner of its containment chamber, sitting on the floor. I hadn't looked at it long enough to confirm what it was doing, but nothing was likely to be an answer. Still, looking at that blank white mask and those deep black robes that covered most of its figure was enough to startle me into looking away from it. It hadn't been looking my way thankfully, but I still feared it knew I was here nonetheless.

She tried to flash me a smile as I looked at her, but quickly realized I would never cheer up with the position I was in. "I'm sure you know how long we spent assuming 049 was incapable of speech, so learning it could speak with us was amazing, but it doesn't seem very chatty. You might have noticed him hovering near the glass recently. He's trying to get it to talk. It isn't going to. I've told him that a thousand times. It doesn't want to talk with us. It doesn't feel a need to. Yet, he's persistent, and I admire that, but it may be too harsh of persistence." She quickly shook her head out. "I'm really not supposed to be telling you all of this. Don't tell anyone we had this chat and I won't turn you in. I promise." She smiled, but I showed no change in disposition. "Anyways, come over here with me." I followed her as she spoke. "We've recently been getting a lot of paperwork in - classified topics, of course - but the general theme exists. It's becoming a nuisance. We're going to be moving around several reports on 049's behavioral patterns, quite a mess you can assume. You keep things flowing out, organize what comes in. I'll try to keep things calm for you today. Just keep the paperwork quiet and I'll try to keep him away from you. Alright?"

She was likely hoping for a verbal reply, but I stared at her quietly for many moments, and eventually she frowned and nudged me towards the paperwork before moving back to her previous spot.

I sighed deep within as I moved towards the stacks of paper. It would be copious amounts of fun for the day, organizing things I currently couldn't care less about while having little notions on where they were meant to go. Part of me was curious, wanted to know what these papers said; the other part would trade the notion that I would never know just to be emancipated.

I kept to the same general corner, putting forth extra effort to distance myself from any and all in the room. It wasn't that they were all hostile, - some of them were very friendly, in fact - it was just that I feared interrupting their work for even a second, and tipping off those who were less friendly. There was always the chance of ending up at the end of a gun barrel all over some papers. As long as I don't have to meet any of those SCPs. I'll organize papers until I develop an irrational fear of them just to avoid those creatures. It was abnormal, but I wouldn't complain too much.

Quickly did I throw myself to the side as two scientists passed by, having a friendly chat about SCP-049 and its activities. I ignored most of it on purpose. I didn't care what that doctor was doing in its cell. Let it throw itself into the wall for all I cared. It was of no interest to me.

There was a brief moment where several of the staff left, but they were switched back into place not long after their replacements arrived. I kept my eyes off of the new just as well as I blissfully dismissed the old. In fact, I aligned a stack of papers that was already as even as it was going to get just to avoid contact.

For quite a while - I cannot say several hours as although it felt like hours, I had no way to confirm any truth behind this - the flow of papers was very steady, just as I had been informed. It seemed like every time I was coming close to clearing everything out, a brand new stack, often larger then the previous, would grace me with its presence. How badly I wanted to read even one of these, even a single sentence, just to know what was going on here. It never made it past a quiet desire, though, for I would never make such an attempt, regardless of how safe it seemed, how unlikely it appeared I would be caught. The risk was not worth reading something I didn't even have any way of knowing was important. For all I knew, they could simply be hiding from me a list of what they've been drinking for the past week, and that would definitely not be worth any threat. It would be great fun to know they like their coffee dark before I was silenced.

I crossed the room, nearing the glass, but making certain not to look into it. If I didn't look at the creature, perhaps it would notice me just as little. It wasn't a threat in there anyways. I just had to move some papers and then I could move away once more.

"SCP-049 has been very quiet lately." I heard a highly familiar voice comment nearby. I tried to dismiss the conversation as well as I could. "It hasn't even made an attempt to move."

"What does it matter?" a far less familiar male voice replied. "It isn't in our hands what it does and doesn't do. Besides, look at it this way, there's less for us to write about if it just stands in a corner. Let it. I'd prefer not to have to write an elongated report on what it does with its time anyways."

With a slightly sarcastic chuckle, the first male answered, "At least you don't have to organize the paperwork." I stiffened and furthered my attempts to ignore them.

The conversation moved on with several bored comments about whether or not SCP-049 was doing nothing on purpose with no real conclusion being reached before the conversation was interrupted. I heard large portions of it at first, but managed to push more and more of it aside as time passed, returning back to the dull but familiar flow of organizing papers.

"What is 049 doing?" asked one of the two suddenly. I continued organizing, my brain barely processing what was being said behind me.

"What's wrong?" questioned the other in response.

"SCP-049 is looking this way. It stood up and it's now looking out of the glass. It looks really interested in something." the first noted as soon as he could.

"Get the head scientist over here! SCP-049 is moving towards the glass!" the second cried in a frenzy, rushing past the first to get the attention of the disgruntled head of the operation. Loud footfalls echoed behind me as the two moved to inform their superior. "Sir, sir!"

A grumpy response barked, "What?"

"SCP-049 is active again. Its moving around, nearing the glass." one of the man attempted to explain, speaking over his friend until the latter gave in to the former and silenced himself. "It just arose and after several moments of intense staring, began moving towards the glass." The explanation continued on with several repeats of what was already said, but I heard just as much of it as I had the rest, which was very little.

My mind completely ignored the tapping nearby - although it was pretty quiet in the first place - on the glass, and a deep voice asked, "Miss?"

"What is it doing?" I recognized the man who had first interacted with me upon entry into this room, but I failed to process the words I heard, despite hearing them quite well. "What is 049 doing? God dammit! Document this, get a handle on it! SCP-049 will not go against me!"

Eventually, my mind processed the nearby sounds - not the screaming of the scientists as they argued over SCP-049 and its actions, but the tapping sound, growing louder as the focus it was trying to garner failed to notice it. The tapping was coming from the glass of the containment area next to me, and as I glanced over I came to the startling observation that 049 was standing directly in front of the glass, its black slit eyes focused on me. It lowered its hand as I looked at it and asked, "Miss?"

Terror flashed through me as I hoped to God it was not trying to communicate with me. Nervously, I pointed to myself and timidly asked, "Me?"

Before SCP-049 could reply, a nearby guard rushed forward and savagely took hold of me. I howled as he grabbed me - 049 fell quiet, but did not seem to show any further emotion towards the assault launched on me - attempting a struggle for only half a second before realizing things would go worse for me the more I resisted, so I fell limp in his grasp. "You are not authorized to speak to SCP-049!" The command was screeched in my ear and my head vibrated.

"Wait!" I instantly recognized the female that put forth so much effort to make nice with me. "SCP-049 is capable of speech, but it has refused to talk to anyone for months!"

"Don't use time!" ordered the disgruntled head of the operation, his eyes burning brightly as he noted I had been given a time period. It was useless information to me, but the notion of what he would order now that I had it was terrifying - and guaranteed to be worse than being late.

The female replied, "She hasn't been observing 049. She doesn't know if it was talking before or after she was transferred here." She turned her focus between the two, rather then focused on just one person. "Point is, we've been trying to get SCP-049 to speak for a very long time and for the first time in forever it spoke, to her. We couldn't even start a conversation with it, nonetheless get it to start one of its own. Now it wants to talk to someone and you're going to throw this away over something as trivial as who she is or isn't authorized to speak to? If you won't allow this, then forget it, but I thought you cared about your studies and we need 049 to speak. If you won't authorize her to speak to it, then I will, because I need this information. Even if its trivial, I need it."

The head of the operation then barked, "You aren't in charge here!"

"No, I'm not, but we live in a democracy, and I'm sure those here agree with me that we should take any chance that SCP-049 wants to speak that we can." she responded. Several quiet murmurs rose among the group, but none spoke directly.

"I'll silence her." the guard who grabbed me huffed, referring to me directly. I felt a newborn fear, worse then what I felt when I looked at SCP-049, worse then what I imagined when I pictured it escaping.

With a shake of the head, the head of the group replied, "No. She's pardoned. I will authorize her to speak to SCP-049, but only this once." He dug his eyes deep into mine as he growled, "You are not to attempt conversation with SCP-049 after this instance." He turned to the guard. "Release her."

I felt relief for a moment upon being dropped to the ground, but as quickly as the fear relented did it rush back into me. It hurried back to its resting spot as my mind hit a realization. If I were being released, that meant I was expected to hold a conversation with SCP-049, whose eyes were still trained on me.

I approached the glass once more, glancing nervously at the colourless and featureless mask the being wore. Timidly, I said, "H-Hello?"

"Greetings, Miss." the being replied instantly, sounding a trifle excited. As it spoke, even just two words, many around me began scribbling down notes. I was being watched from every direction, including by this creature. "You are different."

I didn't want to talk with this thing, and despite the fact that this conversation saved me from termination, - and it seemed to meant a lot to the people observing too - I still didn't fancy it in the slightest, and I still hoped the creature would grow bored of this debate as quickly as it wanted to start it and go back to its life. "What do you mean?" I didn't want to continue this conversation, but I was worried I would be ordered to be killed all over if I purposely ruined this conversation, so instead I simply tried to be blunt with the creature.

"Miss, those around you are infected with a nasty disease. They are all very ill. You are healthy - different." the creature informed me, its head seeming to turn for half a second to those behind me before nodding back to me again.

I had heard this thing believing people to be infected, but far as I had heard, it thought everyone was infected. Now here it was standing in front of me and saying something new - someone wasn't ill. I wasn't ill. "What are they infected with?" I was now a little curious.

"The Great Pestilence, Miss." replied SCP-049 immediately, seemingly a little more excited as it discussed a topic that interested it.

Tilting my head, I inquired, "The what?"

Before SCP-049 could explain, one of the scientists behind me piped in, adding, "The plague, the Bubonic plague. 049 is referencing to the plague."

I turned back to look at it and it made no signs that the scientist had identified what it was speaking of incorrectly. "Nobody here is infected. I can tell you that."

SCP-049 shook its head, clicking its tongue at me. "You are misinformed, Miss. Perhaps you have been lied to, or it could just be that you do not understand the disease as I do, but these people are all infected." It lifted its head. "I want to know something, though. I want to understand. How are you healthy when you are surrounded by the infected? It is, as far as I can see, contagious. You are impeccable, Miss, resisting the illness as you have." I tried to speak, but I had gotten it excited, and it spoke over me. "Miss, it is my job to protect people from the Great Pestilence. It is my goal in life to cure the afflicted and protect the healthy, few of those as there are."

"That happened a long time ago!" I protested loudly. "It isn't a threat like it was. That was in the sixteen hundreds - hundreds of years ago. Besides, I thought there weren't effective cures for it around."

"I can assure you, Miss, my cure is quite effective." SCP-049 replied, and I felt a shudder go down my spine. Although it sounded as though it was no issuing a threat, I still perceived one anyways.

"If I'm not sick, then why are you talking to me? Don't you wanna cure the afflicted? Shouldn't you be telling these other guys about how sick they are?" Nerves raced through me as I questioned the creature. I should've acted like I didn't care, end this quickly, but I couldn't pretend there was no degree of interest in the creature and its beliefs where there was.

It answered, "Miss, I am speaking with you because I am doing my job. I told you, it is just as much my job to protect the healthy as it is to treat the afflicted. I have not come across an uninfected individual for a very long time. I must protect you from obtaining the disease. You and I, we are not infected." I dared not ask. I allowed it to speak. "I request you come in here with me, join me within these walls before you too are infected. I can protect you."

Several howls of protest arose from behind me. A couple attempted to calm the crowd, but the masses won control quite prominently.

The head of the operation rushed forward, slamming a fist on the glass. "You do not make the orders around here, 049! It is not your place to command anyone under me, important or not!"

SCP-049 fully ignored the man yelling at him, not so much as turning his head to glance. He failed to give anyone else the time of day except me, staring, and waiting. "Miss, I insist you come to me. Do not allow yourself to get infected. You are different. You are very different."

"No!" I howled at the creature, throwing myself away from the glass before looking back into its blank, masked face. "I'm not going in there with you! Even if I was allowed to, I wouldn't. You'll only kill me! If I go in there with you, you'd touch me, and you'd kill me! I'm not any different from everyone else here, aside from the fact that I'm disposable! Nobody here is infected! There isn't a plague here! You don't know what you're talking about! There isn't a plague and you know it! I won't go anywhere near you."

Several whispered conversations were taking place behind me, most of them debating whether or not I should be separated from the creature. Regardless of what the opinion was about this conversation, I was approached from behind by the kindly female, who placed a hand on my shoulder and nodded as she stared into my eyes. She soundlessly caught the attention of a nearby guard, who approached me and made to escort me out of the room. I did not argue. I kept my eyes off 049, attempted to ignore it.

I almost ignored SCP-049 as I was guided out. I failed to hear everything it said, almost. But before the door closed behind me, I heard SCP-049 mumble, "It is my job to protect you."


	2. Unlocked

I felt nerves climbing over me, their grimy fingers grasping my skin with eager intent and pulling fiercely. Time had been lost to me as usual after I had been returned to my room. Nothing was said to me. The guard who moved me through the halls said no more than usual, giving me quick and boorish orders on where he wanted me and I didn't feel any direct anger towards the uncivil behavior. My mind was fully focused on the memory of speaking to that creature and watching its gaze on me. As I was thrust into my room, confided and lonely as it was, I had never felt better - unfortunately I had never felt worse either.

I sat curled on my bed, as uncomfortable as it was. It was practically like sitting on a pile of concrete bricks, but I would sit on it forever if it meant never looking at that thing again. I had never known much about that doctor, but the few things I had known, what little information I had cautiously pried from the grasp of this foundation, it had been thrown back at me in a twisted view.

Never had I liked this foundation - I had never been told why I was here after all - but my dislike for them had only increased today. My desire for answers, to know what was going on here, it felt fortified. I wanted to know about SCP-049, while at the same time I didn't. What I did know, the speck of sand I held in my hands, it slipped between my fingers as I learned there was more to it. I hadn't seen that creature as much, it was consistent, until now. It had called out a person and betrayed what everyone thought about it. When the military stood, the general shouted his contradictions, and others stood in awe.

Those foundation officials would surely be scrapping around their brains trying to discover why that creature had behaved like that and their curiosity scared me. Every second that passed by, every terrified thought that skittered through my mind, was a moment where I wondered if they would come back to me. Would those officials come crawling to my room and insist I speak to that thing again? Surely they wanted to know and the source of what caused such a change still lurked around.

My mind blocked out any other noises, as few as they were. I wanted to go home - I resisted the urge to say it out loud numerous times. I had done no wrong, had no reason to be here. I tried to consider home, but couldn't focus. All I could thing of was SCP-049. Before I had left, it had insisted that its job was to protect me. Would it make any effort to do so? Would it be driven to do that very action, or would it find something else to concern itself with?

I had dozed off. Maybe it had happened several times, or mayhap this was the first. My dreams were just as much of a mess as the waking world and thus no thoughts could be properly organized. All I could see in my gaze, in my mind, was its gaze. All I could hear was its oddly vivid voice, the voice constantly insisting I was unique. I was not! I was not different!

My hearing was in a struggle, trying to ignore while remaining alert. I could not feign the fact that I could hear, but it didn't change how little I wanted to. I whined slightly and shifted my body.

Suddenly a fierce pain sprinted through my body. It started at my shoulder, then split paths down my right arm and parts of my back. I yowled and leaped up, realizing with a shake of the head that I was nowhere near the creature. It had been a dream - I had suspected as much, but it was still terrifying. My shoulder blade stung fiercely and I whimpered a little as I moved to test the pain to touch. My eyes caught movement and I flashed my gaze that way. Standing in the doorway was a guard, head turned my way, wielding a security baton rather than a firearm - I assumed he owned a firearm, likely had it with him, but opted for the baton instead, likely to strike me with.

"Pay attention, girl." growled the guard, spinning the baton a little. "I won't ask for your attention again. You're needed."

"Why am I here?" I asked abruptly. I hadn't fully meant to ask such a thing of the guard and there was a large portion of my existence that regretted my choice as soon as the other opted to make it.

I instantly saw the tension, that notion that I had overstepped my boundaries. "Not only is that not information I have, but even if it was I wouldn't share it with you. You don't question your place here. You exist, you do what you're told, and you like it. I'm going to let that one slide today, because frankly I'm not in the mood to mop up a puddle of blood, but I would suggest you not ask that question again. Got it?"

I nodded slightly, lowering my gaze nervously.

"Look at me!" shouted the guard, immediately catching my attention. "Don't think you can play games at this facility. I won't cost my job for your nonsense. You are here because the foundation wants you to be and you aren't going anywhere. Questions will only send you to places you won't like. Now, I believe I asked if you understood me. I don't use gestures to speak to you, do I? Am I waving around my arms and jumping around to explain anything to you?"

There was less than a second of hesitation in my voice before I quickly responded. "No, you don't."

The guard still seemed unimpressed. "You'll come to understand your place and how to respect those above you quickly, unless you prefer a trip to the incinerator. You won't get a proper burial. Your ashes will be destroyed, actually. Now, I don't believe I came here to have this debate with you, did I?"

"No." I replied quietly, refusing to look at his face. "You said I was wanted. Please tell me it isn't SCP-049."

"Oh well of course." the guard vibrantly answered. "SCP-049 was just asking about you over and over. We simply had to give the foul thing what it wanted, bring it its favourite little toy." I already knew sarcasm when it was thrown my way, but I did not make this factor known. "Aside from how I don't remember requesting you question me, surely you don't believe you're going anywhere near 049 after your previous incident, do you? Your outburst was already unfortunately covered, so we can't shoot you for that, but don't give me a reason to take a shot at you. You've been transferred. Any questions?"

"Never any questions." I bluntly denoted in response.

"Good girl. You're learning how this facility works. Now, get up and come with me. You'll find certain people had patience that is not fun to test, including my own." the guard spoke straightforwardly, not a speck of doubt in any of the words he spoke. He simply said what he wanted and meant exactly that.

Questions could be left behind, but it didn't change that they existed in the first place. If a child lost his teddy bear, did that mean the child never had the bear in the first place? Of course not. It simply meant the bear could not be interacted with, changed, affected, observed, until it was found once more. I may have left my questions in my other pocket, but there would be a day, likely distant, when I would bury my hand in there and pull it back out. It simply wouldn't be to this angry gentleman. Nothing at first seemed any different than before. I hadn't been exactly tracking anything any of the other occasions I was moved through the facility, and aside from how eerily similar the rooms of this place appeared physically, I hadn't been tracking them to note which was which anyways. If a difference presented itself, it meant nothing to me. My mind would simply inform me that this object had not been in the prior room, only for the information of the original room to be deleted as a new room presented itself, compared to the prior, which at one point was new, and soon would cease to exist just as it had not existed beforehand.

This time around, there were no elevator rides, which at least eased my nerves about where I was heading. It might not have been a playground, but I certainly wouldn't be around that doctor, and that was, at the very least, a small pocket of air in the underwater tunnel. Now if only I could find the end.

After a time I had not attempted to track, we came to a stop in front of a large door. My eyes immediately searched the image on the door, as well as the chart plastered next to it. The picture took a bit of straining to see the image for what it was, but after a few moments of staring I noted it appeared to be some degree of elderly man halfway emerged in a wall. The image of this strange being stared back at me with an eerie grin, one that instantly sent uncomfortable jitters down my spine. I didn't have time to read the chart before I was forcefully shoved towards the room.

"Across the catwalk. Don't stop to sight-see. This isn't the local zoo." the guard ordered, pointing once before slamming the door in front of me.

I knew very little about where I was exactly, but the room looked quite different from SCP-049's, appearing to be a path overlook a room down below, which I assumed was where the creature itself, whatever its number was, was actually contained. It immediately lead me to wonder why people would keep such a painful distance from it, whatever it was. It clearly was sentient, but how far would it go? Did it move around? Did it speak? Would it bother me too? I tried not to fret over any of these questions. In fact, as soon as I formed any statement with a question mark at the end - or one cleverly disguised as a regular sentence - I instantly convinced myself it didn't matter and dismissed the thought. My eyes refused to divert as I moved down the catwalk towards the room ahead.

As I moved towards the group of people, I was mostly ignored. Men and women proceeded with their business fully dismissing my existence. Whether they noticed and chose to ignore me or didn't even note my existence at all was a factor I neither knew nor questioned.

A tall male eventually glanced my way, a suspicious glint flickering in his eye as he noted I was nearby. He turned to another male, handing him a clipboard and pointing to a nearby table before moving towards me. I kept quiet, eyes on him as he approached me. "Who are you? I don't recognize you."

"I'm... new." What was I supposed to say? Who was I to this foundation? I didn't know.

"That doesn't exactly answer my question." the male huffed, eyes dull as he gazed down at me. "It's clear you're new. Name, class, something. Give me something I can work with."

"I was with SCP-049 before this." I denoted, not certain what else would matter to this man.

While the emotion expressed on his face didn't shift in the slightest - I had my doubts it ever changed - the tension did fade from his stance a little. "Oh you're from 049. Yes, I know who you are. I didn't think you'd be on time. I'm afraid the person you're looking for is downstairs right now observing SCP-106. As you are unauthorized to be down there, you'll have to wait until he's finished to speak with him."

"What is SCP-106?" I immediately regretted my question. "I mean...! I don't mean to ask questions at all, but I thought it would help if-"

The man raised a hand, stopping my thought before it ended. "You understand the concept of watching your questions well. I wonder who you learned that from." There was a sigh at this point and I wondered if this fellow had some kind of harsh relation with a guard or someone from SCP-049's chamber. "However, this question is fully appropriate, showing you're going to be working around here for a while. I'm going to assume you didn't reach the chart outside the door?"

"This facility isn't a library." I returned, uncertain how my response would be taken.

"So I've heard." Another sigh. "However, a library is exactly what this facility needs to be if we're going to make any progress, get anything done. I can't tell you much about SCP-106 directly - I doubt I need to read you the classified data spiel - but there are at least a couple things you need to know if you don't want to end up victim to that thing. The first thing you need to know is that SCP-106 is Keter class. It is not to be taken lightly and is a far more direct threat than SCP-049. SCP-106 will not hesitate to launch a violent attack on you if it gets the chance and it knows what it's doing. Next, physical contact of any sort is prohibited with SCP-106. Did you at least see its picture?"

I nodded. "Yes, uh, sir." I felt shaky. "Elderly man, rotted skin, halfway emerged in a wall."

"And did you see the black substance stuck to the wall around it?" asked the man quickly, skipping any dodgy wordplay and getting right to the point.

"I acknowledged it." I admitted.

"Yes, well, you'll learn to do more than acknowledge that stuff. If you see anything or anyone, even the edges of its containment chamber, with that stuff on it, you will report it to someone immediately. Anyone here is higher ranking than you and can be reported, but either myself or the man in charge would be preferred. If you tell anyone else, the information will just be rerouted to us anyways and you'll still be a part of that conversation. If for some reason you ever come in contact with SCP-106 or that substance, even if for a fraction of a moment, you will report it immediately and show us exactly where contact was made. It will be quickly dealt with. Failure to do so will not end any better."

With another nod, I answered, "I understand."

"Good, you need to understand this. Perhaps the boys down at SCP-049's chamber play things a little soft, but the creature they deal with is not nearly as dangerous as what we have here. SCP-106 doesn't have a friendly bone in its body and we go through extensive measures I will not emphasize in any further detail to keep it where it belongs. These means aren't your business, but knowing they exist is important nonetheless."

"So if I never go down there that means I'll never have to see it." I tried not to phrase it as question, aptly replacing that punctuation that made it one, but I didn't feel I succeeded at masking what it was.

"Directly, no." the man said. "There is video feed of it, but you won't need to watch." The man cast a finger to a screen with a low resolution image on the screen. "You really aren't missing anything. It doesn't do anything exciting most of the time."

"Are we discussing my pet project?" asked a higher male voice. I looked up a few seconds after the man I was speaking to did. A far shorter fellow - still a little taller than myself, though - stood in front of us.

"You speak about SCP-106 like its your new pet dog. This isn't a cute little puppy or even your tiger cub that appears harmless at this size and age. This thing is a dangerous creature, a force that spits at nature, that looks at us all like a fun game to pass the time. You speak of it far too casually."

The shorter gentleman added, "And you let the thing stress you out too much."

There was a glare from the taller man and I wondered if there was any competition between the two. "Someone has to take this operation seriously. Maybe you want to go play a fun game of tag with that thing, let it have its fun, but I would prefer watching it like a hawk and keeping it where it belongs. It may just be standing there now, but its only a matter of time before it attempts a breach again."

"Don't lecture me on SCP-106!" the friendless I had originally interpreted the shorter man to harbor was now gone. Now I was aptly reminded of the previous person I worked under. "You think I don't know about how dangerous its attempts to breach are? I watch the damn thing! I know what its doing! I keep track of its breaches, might I remind you? I know every time it makes an attempt and how much progress it made. I keep numbers on collateral damage, or maybe you're too busy doodling pictures of flowers on your clipboard to notice how much work I put into this project?"

"Sir, I don't! I would never..." the tall man swallowed aptly as he spoke. "Sir, I didn't mean it like that. I just went through a lot of effort emphasizing to our new face how dangerous SCP-106 is and I don't want her to misinterpret its threat because of casual comments towards it. Surely we don't want a repeat of the last incident?"

The short man glanced my way now, easing up a little as he noticed me. "Oh, the new cat is here! Wonderful! Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"You were having a friendly get-together with the homicidal old man." replied the tall man. I was impressed he got fully away with that.

"Please." There was a moment of silence. "Go back to your flower doodles. I'm sure they're very important and pertinent to our research." He smiled quickly before non-verbally shooing the tall man away. "Now, about you, did my assistant fill you in about basic procedure with SCP-106?"

I inhaled and answered, "Yes. Don't make contact, report instances of contact, report the black substance." I kept blunt.

"Good, then you're already further than I expected you to be." the man replied. "As I'm certain he already emphasized, you will not be anywhere near SCP-106, as the lower level is far past your security authorization, which is none, to successfully avoid beating around the bush. I already know what you exist for and I'm pleased to have your monotonous grunt work on my team. Now, if you would-" A spotted a flash of anger flicker through his gaze and my immediate reaction was to cower.

"I-I'm sorry!" I cried. "Whatever I did I didn't know I wasn't supposed to do."

The man grunted and shook his head. "No, you did nothing. You're going to learn something about this particular operation, though. Stay behind me; don't intervene." I kept my voice silent and my eyes down as he pushed me aside, heading towards a male and a female leaning against a wall on the other side of the room. As he moved past me, I followed nervously. "You two!" The female looked up, but the male failed to notice.

"Hello, sir. Can I help you?" the female asked, seeming unnerved. She nudged her elbow against her male friend's side while adding, "If there is anything we can do together for you, our boss, you only have to say and we'll both be listening."

The male looked up, not so much as feigning the notion that he was looking. "Hello, sir." The friendly greeting was not returned.

"What are you two talking about?" asked the short male to the duo, a snake's venom laced into the otherwise friendly question.

"SCP-106." both answered quickly, one starting the same reply before the other formed an echo over top of the first. This answer was met with a glare, but I was confused as to why. I did not ask, but observed.

"Is that so?" asked the short male, flashing a swift glance to the male, which then flashed over to the female, while tilting his head a little. "I would like to believe you were talking about SCP-106. I mean, I certainly believe 106 is a thrilling topic to debate in this line of work, and I encourage you to speak of it. However, I don't believe that is what you were discussing. Allow me to ask, is the name of this SCP Radical Larry?"

There was instant hesitation, a pause where neither replied. They didn't move, didn't twitch. I was only further confused. They refused to answer and this did not seem to be going over well. The short man appeared to be losing patience slowly, and I could feel a fierce aura growing over the area as time passed.

"No, sir." answered the female eventually, realizing her male friend refused to speak up.

"Correct. Now, do we have anyone in this entire area under that name?" asked the shorter man.

"No, sir." the female replied once more.

"Of course we don't. Then tell me, why do you people constantly talk about Radical Larry? I'm not raising a circus act here, you know? I'm fairly certain that there is not a single official record dubbing SCP-106 Radical Larry, and you people believe you can subtly hold these conversations in the background like I won't hear those words. How hard is it to say 106? Its three numbers! Three numbers! Radical Larry never was and never will be the name of this creature and I would appreciate if everyone would stop giving it a nickname. The final point is that it is not and never will be Radical Larry. You call it SCP-106 or 106 is the letters are to difficult to say. Now, go about your business and don't let me hear that name in reference to my SCP ever again."

There was a long period of silence, followed by the male and female splitting up in different directions, dodging around the short gentleman as he icily watched them. I was frankly still very confused about the entire event, but I moved not an inch for the fear of the short man addressing his fury towards the fragile expendable.

"Many apologies for that incident. It seems some people have taken to calling SCP-106 by the name Radical Larry and let me make one thing very clear right now, that is not the creature's name. I don't know who started that story, but its inappropriate and I will not tolerate it. Regardless of what anyone says, SCP-106 is not named Radical Larry. Clear?"

I answered, "As a crystal."

The man seemed satisfied, and with this notion the last bit of anger faded back to whatever darkly pits it crawled up from. Deep within the mind of this short man was a dark crater, a pit one would look into and strain their eyes into the pitch, wondering if there's a bottom, and while you stare into its depths a foul creature lurks just out of your sight, chuckling inwardly at your childish curiosity and knowing it can one day abuse it. That was the mindset of this foundation - it just appeared some people dug a far deeper pit than others, and their monsters took longer to scale the cliff-sides.

My attention was turned to a different part of the room as we moved, explanations as trivial as when I first entered SCP-049's area being thrown my way. It seemed to be mostly a repeat of instructions thrust into my hand in the prior chamber, only with a different creature's name - or number, technically - being connected to it. It was hardly noteworthy, and although I listened to every word, I felt like I was reading chapter one in a book I was already halfway done with. While nearing the conclusion, a female - different from the woman who had gotten yelled at before - approached and attempted to garner attention.

Eventually, the female was noticed, although I hadn't made any effort to point her out despite noticing her instantly. "What do you want? I'm filling in our new hand."

"Sir, something is very strange with our computers." said the female bluntly.

"What's going on? Can't my assistant deal with it?" inquired the short man.

The woman shook her head. "The system is rerouting every command he puts into it. Every command he types into the system sends us to a picture of a restroom image."

"What?" asked the man. "That doesn't seem logical. Let me see it." The man turned to me. "I'll be with you shortly."

I kept to the background, moving behind the man as he moved towards the many buttons, levers, and computer screens opposite to where we had previously been standing. A small crowd was gathered around a single monitor as the tall man from earlier was furiously typing on the keyboard. The short man approached from behind.

"What is going on? I heard some kind of nonsense story about restroom images." the short man began.

"Christ!" howled the taller man. "I got it again!" He noted his superior behind him and turned, anger in his eyes. "Boss, you're got to take a look at this. I've typed twenty different commands into the system and regardless of their nature, I get this." As the tall man shifted aside, the monitor was displayed from anyone to see, and it was plain as day. There was a picture of the male figure used to represent a men's restroom displayed in single colour on the screen, taking up the entirety of the screen itself. "The system won't respond."

The short male moved in, looking at the screen. "This is ridiculous. How can you be getting this? Is this a joke? I won't tolerate toilet humour!"

"No, sir!" answered the tall male. "I would not prank you."

The screen shifted on its own, displaying several letters, numbers, and symbols, which appeared quickly in a line, far faster than a human could type, with no discernible rhyme or reason. The screen flashed before a loading bar filled up the entirety of the screen.

"What is it loading? What did you click?" howled the short man.

"I didn't do anything! I told you, I can't! Everything I type just sent me to that picture. The screen flickered and it was just a restroom picture. Sometimes male, sometimes female, but nothing else." he fretted, moving in to the screen to read the finer print. "Sir..."

"What?" snarled the short man fiercely.

"We should evacuate this room." the tall man insisted.

"Why?" demanded the short man.

The tall male's eyes were filled with more fear than I had ever witnessed flickering through a single person's eyes. He seemed almost incapable of forming the sentence. "Something is authorizing an unlock of SCP-106's containment chamber."


End file.
